A Day I'll Never Forget

Okay, don't faint, I'm actually posting twice in one week!

Fourteen years ago today, I totalled my car. Ben & Jonathan were both injured, and it was one of the worst days of my life. I don't think I'll ever forget that moment when I turned around and saw both of them bleeding and scared. Thank God, it was much worse than it looked. They both carry scars of that day, but the scars are minimal. God was gracious to us that day, and I will forever be grateful.

So why am I remembering that day so long ago and marking the anniversary of a wreck? I'm sure there's probably something deep and psychological there, but I guess the reason I do it is that I feel a need to acknowledge what was for me a life-changing event. The boys' injuries turned out to be rather superficial, and aside from leaving scars that most folks don't even notice, they are none the worse for it. For me, however, it was a day I'll never forget.

There was something about that event - which came on the heels of two other major, emotional events in my life in the previous six months - that forced me to sit down & take notice of what was happening. After the wreck, somehow all of the emotions I had been feeling and not dealing with were right there in my face, demanding attention.

I've always felt that even though the boys had the physical injuries, I was traumatized emotionally that day. I felt guilty for a long time that the wreck was my fault... nothing worse for a mother than to know she's caused her child pain. But, life happens, and you have to move on. That day, though, forced me to deal with the depression that had been hanging over my head. It was not a pretty nor a pleasant journey. For months I felt like someone had stolen my heart and left a big, black hole in its place. I struggled alone for many months, trying to think my way through and pray my way through the darkness I was feeling. I considered going on medication to help, but I considered it a "crutch" at the time. (Though I now know that the antidepression meds they have today are more about helping balance your serotonin levels than about masking symptoms.) The truth was, I was pretty crippled, and a crutch would have probably been a good thing.

And I literally had to deal with crippling effects before long. I was diagnosed with arthritis at the age of 34, just a few months later. I firmly believe the physical problems were caused by the emotional ones I wasn't dealing with properly. Doctors have since confirmed this to me, and they were surprised that I understood the correlation. When we don't process our emotional pain, be sure it will show up in another form somewhere else.

Months down the road, I finally found a counselor that I felt could help me, one who respected my faith in God. I will always thank God for bringing Brother Hensley into my life at that time, to give me the tools I needed to deal with and grow past my pain. He told me I was a very angry woman that first day...man, I didn't want to hear that! But he helped me face the things in my life that were bringing me pain and helped me learn to take my "emotional temperature" and really identify the emotions I was feeling. He counseled me for about a year, and he helped me grow quite a bit.

Hand in hand with the therapy was the touch of God on my life one night in a service where a minister laid hands on me and prayed for me. I've always felt the real healing in my spirit and my emotions began that night. But it was a process, one that took time - a healing, not a miracle.

As hard as that experience was, I am thankful for the things I learned there, and the compassion God gave me for others who are experiencing the same kind of pain for whatever reason. Somehow, it's easy for me to see those folks now. The pain on their faces is like looking in a mirror. So if I can, I try to offer hope and encouragement to those who wear that mask of pain. A lot of times we don't know how to help others, but even if we don't have the answers, just a hug and an "I love you" helps...just knowing someone cares.

There were a lot of miracles that happened that day of the wreck: the doctor who "happened" to be driving the car behind the people we hit when the wreck happened; Ben's glasses that John & Daddy found the next day (which he wore for over a year); the seat belt that "released" so that Ben was not crushed in the car; the fact that the car we hit had double air bags or both of those men could have been killed.

God was definitely in control that day, and His fingerprints were unmistakeable to me as I looked back on it. Yet, it was a hard thing for me to come to understand that God allows bad things to happen to His children. I finally understood that life happens, and not all of it is good. You learn to deal with it, to process it, and you go on. You give your pain to God, and you allow Him to bring healing to a place inside you that's hurting. But the fact that He was in control, even on one of the worst days of my life, made me realize that no matter what happens, nothing can take me out of His hand. No matter how bad it seemed, there was always a spark of hope inside me that told me that God would bring me through this valley experience, and that somehow He would redeem my pain.

He has been faithful to do both of those things. So why should I not remember this day - as one which changed my life through pain and through healing? The pain caused me to deal with my humanity, and the healing caused me to be realize that God's grace and God's strength is always sufficient.